


Some Like it Red . . . and then Some Don't

by innusiq



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Episode Related, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-10-27
Updated: 2000-10-27
Packaged: 2018-11-10 23:04:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11136444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innusiq/pseuds/innusiq
Summary: Two missing scenes from Some Like it Red.    "





	Some Like it Red . . . and then Some Don't

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Some Like it Red . . . and then Some Don't

## Some Like it Red . . . and then Some Don't

by Innusiq

Author's webpage: http://tuktoyaktuk.net/innusiq/

Author's notes: Comments are always welcomed. tyk!

* * *

Some Like it Red . . . and then Some Don't by: Jenny Hill 

He stood back and watched as Fraser dressed for work. He had done this a million times before. Well, he never actually watched Fraser dress for work before. He more stood back and watched him in general not bothering him, letting him do what he needed to do without interfering or giving him any unwanted advice but this day was just not going to be one of those days he could keep his thoughts to himself. 

"Son?" 

Smoothing the fabric of his uniform, Fraser closed his eyes in dread, praying he hadn't heard his father's voice. It was the most inopportune time but his visits never were made at the right time. Fraser ignored the first call in hopes he was hearing things and continued to dress. 

"Son, I know you can hear me." 

Sighing out loud, Fraser said, "Yes Dad, I can hear you." And he left it at that as he sat down to put on his shoes. In his mind, Fraser kept repeating, "Please go away. Please go away." 

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself? To explain yourself?" 

Standing up and finally turning to face his father, Fraser flatly responded, "No." 

Fraser Sr. nodded his head in acceptance of his son's answer and added, "This is all my fault, isn't it?" 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Me, leaving you to be raised by your mother and then your grandmother . . ." 

"Grandfather was there too!" Fraser stated, defending his upbringing. 

"No, don't try and make me feel better son. I was raised by them too, ya know and I know she is the one who wore the pants in that house." 

"Dad, I don't have time to argue with you. This has nothing to do with you or your absence from my childhood." 

"Then why - why are you doing this? I expect something like this from your Uncle Tiberius but you?" 

"Dad, I am simply trying to help a friend out today. All this," Fraser said motioning to his clothing, "is nothing. I am helping Ray out and that is all." 

"Ah." 

"Dad," Fraser said using an accusing tone. 

"Hm." 

"Dad, stop that. There is nothing to 'ah' or 'hm' over." 

"Son . . . Ben . . . men just don't normally help out other men in this manner. It's not right." 

"I don't see what's 'not right' about it," Fraser said as he headed to the closet mirror. "Ray needs help and I am going to offer him that help. It is my duty as his partner and his friend." 

"He knows about this, then? He's okay with this?" 

That statement pulled Fraser's attention away from the mirror. "What?" 

"Your Yank friend, he knows you are doing this and he didn't have any objections towards this idea of yours?" 

"Well . . . " 

"It's just not something I thought he of all people would understand." 

Fraser glared at his father then turned back to the mirror and checked his hair one last time. 

"He doesn't know, does he?" 

Fraser's further silence answered that question. 

Fraser Sr. started to laugh. 

Pleased with how he looked Fraser closed the closet door and turned to head towards the kitchen. In his haste or in his annoyed state, Fraser's heel came down at a wrong angle causing him to wobble. 

"Son," Fraser Sr. began as he tried to stifle his further laughter, "shall I call you Grace?" 

Fraser shot him a look and said, "No, now if you don't mind . . ." 

"I'm sorry Son, I couldn't help it." Still laughing, Fraser Sr. moved to join Fraser in the kitchen. "You do know that Ray is going to . . . question . . . your motives." 

Fraser looked his father in the eye. "Question my motives? I don't understand." 

Fraser Sr. wanted to laugh again but he could see his son was being serious. "There is just a line . . . a fine line that men are not suppose to cross," Fraser Sr. tried to explain. 

"A line?" 

"Yes a line and this is that line. Men don't dress up like women to help out a other men. You just don't do something like that . . . at least not without their consent." 

Fraser's attention now was drawn down to the blue dress he wore that showed off his legs a little more than he remembered when he picked the dress out, then he looked back towards his father. "This means nothing Dad." 

"To you it may mean nothing but to Ray . . . 

"Dad, Ray will understand." 

Fraser Sr. arched an eyebrow, challenging his son's statement. 

"Okay, maybe not straightaway but he will understand," Fraser amended. 

Standing silent for a moment to take in his son's exterior look, Fraser Sr. asked, "Are you sure there is no ulterior motive in this plan of your's." 

His father's persistence was unnerving. Clearing his through, Fraser replied in a stammer, "N-no, what kind of m-motive could there possibly be?" 

Fraser Sr. shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know son, you tell me." A beat later, "By the way, that hair color is a nice compliment to your skin color." 

The comment took Fraser by surprise. "Thank you Dad, I guess." 

"You know, your mother always wanted a daughter . . . " 

"Dad!" 

"Not that she wasn't pleased with you . . . she loved you dearly." The memory of his wife drew Fraser Sr.'s attention away for a few seconds and then he was back, continuing in another direction. "Listen son, it has come to my attention that when you do things, there is a reason for your actions and usually, I can see your reasons but this time . . . I haven't a clue as to what you are up to." 

"I am not 'up to' anything. I told you, I am helping out a friend. Nothing more and nothing less." 

"You keep saying that son but I don't accept that. There is more." 

Fraser gave his father a look that could burn and moved passed him, wobbling a bit still as he walked over to his bed, ignoring him. 

Fraser Sr. sighed as he realized he was going to have to speak bluntly with his son and that was something he didn't want to do. "You do realize that dressing like a woman is not going to change how he sees you." 

That got Fraser's attention as he whirled around. He still didn't say a word. There was just a hint of shock in his eyes as he stared at his father. 

Fraser Sr. crossed the room to where Fraser stood. If he could, he would have put a comforting arm around him. "Ben, I may not have said this as much as I should have when I was alive but . . . I love you." 

The words softened Fraser's eyes. If his father continued with this conversation in this manner, he was certain that tears would be shed and if that happened, he would be very unhappy because that would cause his mascara to run and it took far too long in getting his lashes to look just right. 

His father continued. "I just don't want to see you get hurt son, that is all." 

Offering a small smile, Fraser said, "Dad, I am not going to get hurt. As I have said before, all I am doing is helping Ray." 

"So this has nothing to do with the fact that you love him?" 

A slight chuckle escaped from Fraser. "No, this has nothing to do with the fact that I love Ray." 

"Good . . . " Fraser Sr. was at a loss for words at that point, which Fraser found amusing because his dad always had something to say whether it was pertinent or not. "Son?" 

"Yes Dad?" 

"It was good of you to steer clear of the mustard color. It would have drowned out your color." 

"Thanks . . . Dad." 

* * *

The ride home was done in silence. It was true that Fraser loved Ray. It was true that his dressing up as a woman had nothing to do with that love but more to help a friend - a partner in need. He would never try to manipulate Ray like that. It would have been deceitful and dishonest \- something Fraser wasn't capable of being but when the comments Ray made seemed to sting a bit deeper than they should have, Fraser knew his facade couldn't be held up much longer. 

Silence was good. In silence, no one could say anything that would hurt anyone. When the car was pulled up outside Fraser apartment tenancy, on auto pilot, Fraser opened the door, politely said good night, exited, retrieved his wolf and belongings, closed the door and retreated to the solitude of his building and eventually his apartment. Silence was good but only if one could get it. 

The minute he was in the door, Fraser - not his customary action - tossed his "Ms. Fraser" clothing in the corner. He watched Diefenbaker prance over to the frilly garments and sniff around but they didn't hold his interest. When his eyes met Fraser, all Fraser could ask was "What do you want?" 

Huffing, Diefenbaker decided it was best to leave his pack mate alone and he trotted into the kitchen and crawled under the kitchen table. 

Shaking his head, Fraser walked over to the closet and hung up his blue wool pea coat and the red serge. "Why did I even do this?" It was meant to be a rhetorical question but sometimes, ghosts just didn't seem to understand the meaning of a rhetorical question or at least this one didn't understand. 

"You said it yourself that you wanted to help him." 

Praying this night would be over and over quickly, Fraser said, "Thank you Dad for that wonderful insight." 

The sarcasm, which didn't suit his son, could not be missed. "I am only trying to help." 

Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Fraser said, "I'm sorry, it's just . . ." 

"Things didn't work out the way you planned?" Fraser Sr. said, offering the finish to his son's statement. 

"I didn't plan anything," Fraser protested. 

"Maybe not but you had wished . . . something . . . would've happened." 

Taking another deep breath and releasing it as slowly as before, Fraser said, "I just didn't expect what happened to have happened, that is all." 

"Ah." 

Exasperated, Fraser headed towards the kitchen and began filling his rustic looking teakettle. He was now beginning to understand why that "tactic" annoyed Ray so much. 

"Son, I am going to give you two pieces of advice. Number one," Fraser Sr. paused for a moment in thought before he continued. "Actually I've forgotten the first but it's not important. The important piece of advice I have for you is, you can never plan life - it simply just happens." 

Fraser turned to challenge that advice and when he did, his father was gone. "He comes, he goes - never a word of warning . . . " Fraser's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at his door. 

Fraser crossed his small apartment to the door, questioning to himself who could be at his door so late at night. When he opened the door, the person standing on the other side pushed his way in without waiting for an invitation. 

"Benny, we gotta talk." 

After the initial shock wore off, Fraser closed the door. "Come in Ray." 

Ray was pacing back and forth as if he was trying to use up the energy that was threatening to spill over. 

"Is something wrong?" Fraser asked, walking over to his friend. 

"Nothing's wrong Benny. Did I say anything is wrong?" Ray stopped his pacing to look at Fraser, waiting for an answer. 

"No you didn't . . . " 

"No, I didn't." 

A silence drew out between the two friends. 

"Tell him," Fraser Sr. said, reappearing for moral support in his mind but for sheer annoyance in the younger Fraser's opinion. 

"Shhh!" 

Ray gave Fraser an odd stare. "I didn't say a word!" 

Fraser cleared his throat. "Ah, no, I was speaking to Diefenbaker." It was an excuse. 

Ray turned to look at Diefenbaker who was asleep under the table. Shaking his head, he brought his attention back to Fraser. 

Fraser cleared his throat again and tried to ignore his father the best he could. "What did you want to talk about, Ray?" 

"Why did you do it Benny?" 

"Do what?" 

Rolling his eyes, Ray clarified, "You know this . . . the whole Ms. Fraser thing? Why did you do it?" 

"Because you are my partner, Ray and you needed my help." 

"That's it? Just because I'm your partner? So you would do this for any partner? Say the Dragon Lady needed your help in this capacity, would you have been Ms. Fraser for her?" 

"If Inspector Thatcher instructed me to do this I would be honor bound to do so, for my country." 

"That wasn't my question." 

"Ray, you're not making any sense here." 

"Benny, I didn't ask you to help me - you just did it and boy did you do it. My question was would you have done this for her or anyone else for that matter without being asked? Would you offer to embarrass yourself like that without being told to do so for anyone else?" 

"I didn't embarrass myself," Fraser objected. 

"Son, I'm with the Yank on this one. It was kind of embarrassing." 

Fraser readjusted his sights on his father and gave him a warning sneer. 

"If you want me to leave son, all you have to do is ask." Fraser continued staring, not uttering a word. "Alright, I'll go but I'd listen to the Yank if I were you." 

"Thank you." 

"Why are you thanking me?" Ray asked, confusion evident in his voice. 

Fraser turned back to Ray. "I'm sorry. I thank you for your concern over my character. I assure you, I have not done anything that I am embarrassed by nor I believe that anyone else wouldn't have readily done for their own partner." 

Ray gave Fraser a look that told him he was treading on thin ice. 

"You needed someone to go undercover. I was more than willing to help. It is as simple as that. You are my partner and my best friend . . . I would do anything . . . " 

Ray's ears perked up at the cut-off statement. He began pacing again but in a calmer fashion. "Ya know Benny, when I walked into the school's auditorium and saw you dancing with that teacher . . . I didn't like it." 

"You didn't like it?" Fraser repeated. 

"No." 

"What are you saying Ray?" 

His pacing stopped again and Ray steeled himself to begin his explanation, the reason he was there in the first place. "Okay, here it is . . . When I said earlier I like my women to be women, I meant that." 

"I believe you Ray . . . I believed it then too. You didn't have to come up here to tell me again." 

"I know, but what I did need to come up here and tell you is that I also like my men to be . . . you know . . . men." 

"Men?" 

"Well . . . not 'men' but one particular man." 

"He's talking about you son." Fraser Sr. piped in, pointing out the obvious. 

Fraser honestly didn't need the clarification from his father. He wasn't a moron after all. "Ray . . . " 

Ray took a step closer to Fraser. "You have all the qualities I look for in a mate." 

Fraser swallowed once and took a step back. 

Ray took another step closer. "You're kind." 

Fraser swallowed a second time and took another step back. 

Ray took another step closer. "You're honest." 

Fraser loosened the collar of his T-shirt and Henley, taking another step back. 

Standing directly in front of him, Ray completed, "And you have a good sense of humor." 

"Oh, he's good son," Fraser Sr. commented, the impression clear in his voice. 

Fraser ignored his father. There was no where else for him to go seeing he had backed himself against the door. 

"I like you as you, Benny, so don't ever go doing that again, okay?" 

Fraser nodded his head, his breathing quickening. 

"Good. And another thing . . ." Ray's words trailed off and without warning, he pressed his lips against Fraser's. 

It didn't take long for the barriers Fraser had erected to protect himself and Ray from his own feelings to be demolished. It may have been Ray who initiated the kiss but it was Fraser who was pulling them into the abyss of passion. What began as an innocent kiss quickly moved into a deeper and more connecting act. 

Ray's elegant fingers were stroking Fraser's cheeks and then they made their way up and into his hair. He enjoyed texture of the thick mop between his fingers. He'd dreamed about what it would feel like but never had the courage to find out until now. 

Fraser's hands weren't idle either. They were on the move, exploring the contours of Ray's shoulder's and back and they only stopped when he reached the most southern point he could reach in the position he was in. 

Ray moaned when he felt the strong hands cup his butt. It wasn't just a simple cupping but a gentle squeeze as well. This was the way it was suppose to be. This was the way he had dreamed it could be and yet never in his wildest dreams had he thought it would ever be. 

They parted when the need for breathing was greater than their need for each other. Both men stood stock-still regaining their equilibrium. It took a few minutes for their breathing to return to a normal pace and while they waited out the waves, their eyes were locked on one another's. 

Finally, Ray spoke up. "You've been keeping things from me Benny." The words were said in a teasing manner and accompanied by the most endearing smile. 

"As have you, Ray," Fraser said as a smile quirked at the corners of his mouth. 

"Yeah." Ray pulled Fraser into an embrace, resting his head on Fraser's shoulder. "You do realize I'm never gonna let you go." 

Giving Ray a gentle squeeze, Fraser said, "I certainly hope not." 

The end 


End file.
